


Comfort Closet

by Reioka



Series: Pride Pockets [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexuality, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, pride fic, pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reioka/pseuds/Reioka
Summary: You don't have to be out to be proud. Sometimes just being out to yourself is enough.





	Comfort Closet

**Author's Note:**

> For context going into this: Nobody on the team is straight in this ficlet’s universe. Nobody. (Personally going with Natasha being demisexual and Steve being bisexual here but I left it open to interpretation.)

Comfort Closet

 

“I thought it would fix me,” Steve whispered, clasping his hands together. He wondered if it hid the fact that his were shaking. “I thought… the serum was supposed to make me better. Was supposed to fix everything wrong with me. And it did, I guess. Everything except for… for this.”

 

Natasha stared back at him, mouth dropped open into an elegant little ‘o’ of surprise.

 

Steve swallowed thickly. “Was it that obvious? Does anyone else know?”

 

“Steve,” Natasha whispered, eyes going big and hurt. “I was just teasing.”

 

“Except you weren’t really, were you?” Steve asked, trying not to sound too accusing and failing miserably. “You knew the minute I looked at him that I was—that I have these… That this is the one broken thing the serum couldn’t fix.”

 

“There’s nothing to fix,” Natasha told him viciously, voice soft to punctuate the statement with its seriousness. “This isn’t unnatural, Steve. Didn’t they tell you about these things? There’s nothing wrong with you. You keep thinking the serum was supposed to fix you but did it ever occur to you that it did, and this wasn’t something to be fixed? That it might actually be natural?”

 

Steve jerked his head away and swallowed down the vitriol that had been instinctively and defensively trying to crawl up his throat.

 

“Steve,” Natasha repeated gently, face soft with understanding. “Am I broken? Am I unnatural?”

 

Steve looked back up at her sharply, speechless.

 

“Is Bruce? Is Clint? No one on this team is a picture of the good old American dream from the forties, Steve,” she said. “Not all of us are gay, but we’re not straight. For God’s sake, there’s video of Tony coming out in the nineties by showing up at a rally and chanting, ‘We’re here, we’re queer, and we won’t disappear,’ with a hundred other people.”

 

Steve sat back in his seat, dumbstruck.

 

Natasha smiled sadly. “You may be broken, Steve, but not because of this.  _Never_  because of this.”

 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Steve whispered, ashamed.

 

Natasha finally allowed herself to reach out and take one of his hands, drawing it into her lap instead. She stroked her thumbs over his knuckles softly. “Steve, I would never dream of telling anyone this. Take all the time to come to terms with this that you need. Choosing not to come out is different from being forced to stay hidden. In the end, it’s nobody’s business but yours. Just remember… we’ll all support you, no matter what you decide. We just want you to be happy.”

 

Steve said nothing; just gently gripped her hand back, and wondered if he’d ever feel as comfortable about it as she did.

 

Two years later, on the anniversary of Tony coming out, found him fondly watching Tony chanting ‘we’re here, we’re queer, and we won’t disappear’ with a crowd of thousands at a street fair where all the proceeds went to charities to help LGBT+ youth, not brave enough to join in the chant, but finally okay with that fact. He did not need to be as ‘out’ as everyone else; for him, just not feeling ashamed of himself was enough.


End file.
